Posh Boy

Last week’s contribution to Hijacked Amygdala can be read here.


You asked me once why we “would never work out.”

Well, for starters, we come from different worlds.

(Don’t even bother trying to argue this one, Posh Boy).

Do you remember the time I told you that I wanted to name my dog Hendrix (as in Jimi) and you thought I meant Hendrick’s (as in fancy gin)?

Your friends are lawyers, tailors and traders.

My friends are tradesmen, dealers and murderers.

You take the piss out of me because I’ve never been in a helicopter or ever been skiing

and I take the piss out of you because when I took you on the Tube for the first time,

you asked where the STOP bell was.

You laugh at me because I don’t pronounce my T’s (especially when I say ‘bottle’ and ‘etiquette’)

and I laugh at you when you call someone an “utter tosspot” because you sound like a right twat.

I laugh at you because despite your ludicrously expensive gym memberships you still couldn’t fight your way out of a wet paper bag

and you laugh at me because despite being “all little and cute” I’m the most dangerous person you know.

I don’t know anything about world history and I don’t know anything about classics

and I don’t know anything about fueding with your own family over inheritance and wills and estates

and I’ve never been to a society wedding or a military funeral

and I’ve never even been to an auction, yet alone bid in one

and I’ve never climbed Kilimanjaro or trekked through the Amazon to raise thousands for charity

and I’ve never felt so much pressure to live up to my siblings’ achievements that I’ve considered suicide

and I’ve never been forced to take part in fox hunts even though I think they’re entirely unethical

and I’ve never had to support a political party that I don’t believe in

and my father has never called me a disappointment or a disgrace to the family name.

You don’t know anything about living below the poverty line

and you don’t know how to survive on the streets with no money or shelter

and the only crime you will ever encounter will be related to your company’s tax evasion or Daddy’s offshore accounts, or perhaps your manor getting burgled.

I am glad that you will probably never know about real crime and you will almost certainly never know what it means to be hungry.

You are lucky and you know that you are. I know sometimes you feel embarrassed at your wealth and extravagant lifestyle. I know you can’t help it. You were born lucky. I am lucky too – luckier than most in so many ways, ways that might not be apparent to you.

But really, we’re very lucky that even though we come from such different places, we are somehow great friends who can share a laugh and a drink every once in a while

– even if you scold me for choosing the cheapest wine available

and even if you are just a posh Tory wanker.

Xx

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